Two Halves of One Whole
by Supergirrl
Summary: "How is it? Dying, I mean." "It's like this: you're on a train, going somewhere very far away. You don't know how you got there, or where exactly you're going. You don't even know when it'll stop. But you don't mind, because they'll be waiting for you...


Hey guys! So this is, it turns out, the first oneshot I've written in almost a year, and hopefully I'm not too rusty! I kind of wrote this to get excited for Mockingjay. Does anyone have any predictions? Mine is that Katniss's dad isn't actually dead, and that if Suzanne Collins kills Peeta, I will be very angry. Anyway, this was inspired by a line from the movie Inception, which is EXCELLENT, I would strongly recommend seeing it if you haven't yet. The line is this: 'You're waiting for a train, a train that will take you far away. You know where you hope this train will take you, but you can't be sure. But it doesn't matter - because we'll be together.'. To me, this seemed like a very Peeta-ish sentiment, and this whole concept was born from that. I also semi-used my favorite movie line EVER, 'I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.', so see if you can spot it in here! This is set post-Mockingjay, just in case you couldn't tell. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, or Inception, or Lord of the Rings. Obviously.

* * *

"How is it? Dying, I mean." Katniss gazed steadily at him as she spoke, her head resting on a shard of rock.

For a moment, Peeta was confused. Even on the outskirts of the crumbling Capitol, illuminated by a fading sun over a dying world, she was beautiful to the point of distraction. He wanted to spend the last few hours-minutes?-of his life looking at her, memorizing her face, not talking about death. Then he remembered that he was something of an expert on dying, having done it himself three times. To be completely honest, he didn't have any clear memories attached to the dying itself; the first two times, he had been bleeding, and the third, it had all happened so fast he hadn't had time to realize what was happening. But when he looked into her huge grey eyes, and saw the anxiety in them, he felt compelled to give her a better answer.

"Well," he said, running a thumb over their interlocked hands as he paused to think, "it's not so bad."

"Really?" Though he knew she'd never admit to being afraid, for an instant the relief on her face was visible before she regained her mask of composure. "It doesn't hurt?"

He shook his head. "No, I wouldn't say that. Sometimes it does. If the way you're dying hurts or takes a long time-like bleeding to death-it does, for a while, while you're still fighting to live. But as you get weaker, it'll start to go soft and fuzzy, and you won't hurt any more. And if you die quickly, then for a split second everything is sharp before it goes black. Either way, it's not too bad."

Katniss looked thoughtful. "Why's that?"

He shrugged, because even though he knew why, it was a difficult thing to put into words. "Because…I guess, you know it's temporary. It'll be over soon, you just have to be patient. You know there's something better there, waiting for you."

Abruptly she stood up, jerking her hands from his as she choked out, "But how do you know that? How do you know that there's something to look forward to? How-"-Her voice caught, and it took her a second before she could speak again-"-how are you not afraid?"

Slowly, he pulled himself to his feet, and stared at her for a moment, deciding how best to answer her. "It's like this: you're on a train, going somewhere very far away. You don't know how you got there, or where exactly you're going. You don't even know when it'll stop. But you don't mind, because they'll be waiting for you there." He realized that he was holding her hands again; when did that happen? It didn't matter, really, he wanted to touch her as long as he could, while he still had the chance.

"Who?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, but he could hear her perfectly. He always could.

"Everyone we've ever loved. My parents, my brothers, Prim, your father, Rue, Gale, Madge, your mother, all of them. We're the only ones left, Katniss. They're waiting for us. We just have to get on the train to meet them."

She leaned into him, resting her cheek against his chest. "That's not so bad."

Despite himself, he smiled. "No. Not bad at all."

"How could you do it before? When you were the only one dying, and you didn't have everyone you ever loved waiting for you?"

Peeta rubbed circles on her back absently as he spoke. "I didn't think I'd have to wait for you long. I knew you'd be coming soon. And you are-you've always been-the one that mattered the most to me. I couldn't live without you."

Katniss murmured. "You won't have to, now. We'll be getting on the train together. We'll never be-" She pulled away abruptly. "Do you hear that?"

Peeta strained his ears to listen-her hearing had always been better than his-and after a long moment, he could hear it. The sound of a crowd coming towards them. The remnants of Snow's army, streaming from the ruins of their city. Peeta knew they couldn't last long; the bomb that had destroyed the Capitol and most of its inhabitants had poisoned the survivors, destroying their bodies from the inside out. He and Katniss didn't have much more than a few hours until they slipped into irreversible comas, followed shortly by death, and the Peacekeepers who were closer to the drop site, even less time. He didn't know if the survivors in the Capitol were aware that they were slowly dying, but even if they didn't, he knew that they wanted nothing more than to kill him and Katniss, then probably desecrate their remains. And they weren't going to give the mob that opportunity.

"C'mon," Katniss began to clamber up the narrow, winding path, still holding his hand firmly. She was back in control now, the momentary weakness gone. He followed her willingly, blindly, just like he always had, "We don't have much time."

She was right; the sounds of the horde grew increasingly loud behind them. She began to press on faster, sending smaller rocks and gravel tumbling down the path behind them. Faintly, Peeta began to hear another sound, a loud, crashing sound that took him an instant to place as rushing water. On and on they went, the path twisting upwards, the gap in the rocks above their heads closing in and the sound of water getting increasingly loud. Finally, she came to an abrupt halt, so abrupt that he almost bumped into her. "We're here."

Peeta stepped out from behind her, and looked down. They were standing at an opening in a cliff face that overlooked a massive waterfall, pouring hundreds of feet down into the rushing river below. Even though they were yards away from the actual waterfall, he could feel the coolness of it on his face, and the rocks around them were damp with condensation. They'd stumbled upon this place several days earlier, with the rest of their team. It was strange, it seemed impossible that so much had happened between that moment and the present. The Capitol destroyed, but at a terrible price. The rest of their team-Finnick, Haymitch, Gale, all of them-dead, killed by the bomb. District 13 destroyed, taking with it what family he and Katniss had left. And finally, President Snow's death, Katniss's arrow through his brain, too merciful a death for a tyrant who had caused so much suffering.

But that was done now. It didn't matter any more; all he cared about was right here, beside him. He looked at Katniss and gently tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear before turning his gaze back to the river below. He'd been surprised that anything so natural-looking, so beautiful could exist in these mountains that ringed the Capitol. He had been quite taken with it, and wished sorely that he had had his paints with him. What a painting it would have made!

Later that night, the night before their final mission, the waterfall had taken on a new meaning to him. He and Katniss had stolen away from the camp, to this secret place, and done what the whole world thought had happened years earlier. Under the gentle light of the harvest moon, against the slick rocks, they had become lovers, two halves of one whole, in every way possible.

That's why it was so fitting that it would all end here. Their suffering, their struggles…their heartbeats. But not, Peeta realized, as he glanced sideways at Katniss's face, their love. That would endure, through the rest of their lives and whatever lay beyond.

"One last time? For the audience?" She asked, the corners of her mouth turned up in a wry smile. He smiled back, remembering when he'd said those very words to her, so long ago. So many things had changed since then, but at the same time, they hadn't had at all. He still loved her. He was still willing to die for her, with her. It was just her feelings that had changed, grown stronger.

"Of course. One last kiss for the star-crossed lovers."

She stretched up to meet him, all her fears gone, molding herself to him. This kiss was short, sweet, and absolutely perfect. It was all he needed, to hold him over, until they were together again. When Katniss pulled away, he kept a hold on her hand, and said quickly, like he expected the words to be snatched from him, "I love you. If I could do it all over again, I would rather share this one short, violent life with you than face a lifetime without you."

All she managed to whisper back was "I know", but he knew she felt the same. He didn't need to hear the words from her; her actions, as always, spoke louder than anything else. He understood that words didn't come easily for her, the way they did for him, and sometimes even he couldn't tell her how strongly he felt.

The sounds of the approaching horde were getting louder. "Katniss, we need to do this now. We can't give them a chance to find our bodies."  
For what seemed like an eternity, she stared down at the river, and Peeta wondered if she had changed her mind. He wouldn't push her, but he knew that this was the best way. All he wanted-all he'd ever wanted-was to protect her, and this way, he could. They would never be able to find her body, or his, and they'd be out of the Capitol's reach at last.

"Are you afraid?"

She shook her head, gave him a tiny little smile. "We're going to the inevitable. It's so close…just one final leap into the dark, and we'll be there. I'm ready. There's nothing I want now, besides death. All I need is for you to hold my hand as long as you can. Don't let go until you know I'm gone."

"I will. I promise." He looked out at the waterfall one final time. "It's very beautiful over there, isn't it?"  
She nodded. "It's perfect. On the count of three?"

"Just like last time." He couldn't resist, one final joke. This time, unlike their first suicide attempt, back in the arena, there would be no last-second announcement, nothing to stay their attempt. Maybe it would have been better if they'd succeeded that first time, too.

She smiled up at him. "One."

He stared back. She was the last thing he wanted to see. All his life, everywhere he'd ever looked, she had filled his vision, obscured everything else. Why would now be any different?

"Two." He tightened his grip on her hand; he would keep his promise to her. He wouldn't let go. Together they took a tiny step forward, balanced on the edge of the precipice.

"Three!"

Another small step, and oblivion rushed up to meet them.

The wind rushed past them, and Peeta was reminded of the first time their tribute train drove into the Capitol, dark and cold, everything moving impossibly fast. A flash, a bright light as they hit the water, Katniss's fingers clenched around his…

He's on a train. Not the one that had taken them on their victory tour, but an old-fashioned looking one, with a shiny wooden floor and cast-iron benches fastened to the floor.

"Peeta?"

He whirled around, and there was Katniss, sitting on one of the benches. She was wearing a soft-looking green tunic and brown pants. Her hair was pulled back into a neat, shiny braid, and her face was brighter than he'd ever seen it before. She's smiling while she patted the spot on the bench next to her. "Aren't you going to sit down?"

He did, putting his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him, resting her head against his side. "Did we make it?"

It was almost too good to be true, but the fact that his heart was bursting with joy told him it was. They were safe, free from the Capitol forever, gone to a place where no one could touch them. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then rested his head on hers. "We made it. Now we just wait for the train to stop."

* * *

I hope that wasn't too confusing; the whole thing is sort of muddly, even in my head. Anyway, basically what happened was, Peeta got rescued, they bombed the Capitol, killing all of their team but them and most of the people there. Before they could kill him, President Snow ordered that District 13 be destroyed, so everyone who wasn't on the mission died. Katniss killed him, and, knowing that they were dying from poisoning from the bomb anyway, they decided to commit suicide by jumping into a river. That way, the survivors from the Capitol won't be able to do anything to their bodies, or bring them back. Also, I stole some of their last words from various famous people. Thomas Hobbes said 'I am about to take my last voyage, a great leap in the dark.' Philip Larkin said 'I am going to the inevitable.' Woodrow Wilson said 'I am ready,' and Jane Austen said 'I want nothing but death.' And then, my personal favorite, Thomas Edison said 'It's very beautiful over there, isn't it?' I saw that and thought 'That is a PERFECT last-statement kind of thing for Peeta to say. Also, thanks to my friend Kim, who helped me come up with the ending on the train, it was perfect! Once again, I hope you liked it, and that I didn't bore you too much with my ramblings.


End file.
